This past Wednesday, Muslims all over the world marked the end of the Islamic Month of Ramadan by celebrating one of the two major Islamic holidays, Eid Ul-Fitr. Families across the globe could be found congregating at one other’s homes, greeting relatives they haven’t seen in ages, and eating all sorts of extravagant dishes to delight their palate. At the same time, Muslim students pleaded with their professors for extensions on papers so that they could celebrate with their community.
Yet it is important to reflect on this month. As a Muslim student, I found Ramadan to be a challenge this year, as it always is. When I came to Columbia last year and began fasting within a few weeks, my non-Muslim friends thought I was crazy. No food and no water from sunset to sunrise is something unimaginable to many people. Yet in a time of uncertainty, Ramadan was something of a blessing for me. Coming from a Muslim country, I was constantly barraged by an array of diverse views on religion, culture, and society, and the month of Ramadan provided me with an opportunity to consolidate my identity. I met much of the Muslim community at Columbia University through the daily Iftars (breakings of the fast) organized by the Muslim Student Association, and I felt more integrated in that community as a result. That is the true lesson of Ramadan—it teaches us to recognize that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. It imparts the wisdom and clarity that there is a world out there full of people like us, many of whom do not share the same quality of life as we do. It teaches us to make a difference.
Ramadan this year also meant operating on a sleeping routine turned upside down—I would be found staying awake until 5 a.m. in the morning, stuffing food down my throat either in my room, at Pinnacle, or in somebody else’s dorm. The exhilaration of knowing that each bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich, each gulp of milk down your throat, would be the last until sunset of the same day is something that cannot be described, only experienced. Yet, of course, this was not a solitary experience—I was often joined by my friends, both Muslims and non-Muslims. We had some of the craziest conversations and experiences over those meals. My favorite, Suhoor, as morning breakfasts are called, was organized by another campus organization and served the South Asian delicacy, Halwa Puri and Cholay. I am thankful for these meals that were provided to me for free, courtesy of the many different organizations on campus that came together this month.
Next year, however, is going to be very different. For the first time in more than a decade, Ramadan will quietly slip into the confines of the summer. This is because the lunar calendar, which Muslims observe, is 11 days shorter than the solar calendar. Hence, the beginning of Ramadan moves 11 days earlier every year. This means that in a few years, the whole month of Ramadan will disappear from the academic period.
While this does mean that I will be fasting during days that are hotter and longer, I worry over the loss this month will have to the entire Columbia community. Ramadan at Columbia has traditionally been a month to raise awareness among non-Muslims about Islamic beliefs and practices—knowing that among them walk a people who have taken a vow to forgo consumption of food and liquids has inspired many people to find out more about this religion. This is especially important because Islam today, whether we like it or not, has become a central issue in world affairs. It drives conversation, both political and religious, from Washington to Mecca and is featured on every news channel almost every day. For a campus known to be intensely political, Columbia benefits from Ramadan immensely. Exposure to this month produces better informed students who will step into a world as insightful and knowledgeable leaders. As the world struggles to make sense of the festering conflicts in the Middle East and as America tries to create a strategy to better deal with Muslim countries in which it has invested so much of itself, it is important to be familiar with the beliefs of the people involved. This will not only ensure a better approach to many of the issues concerned but will also lead to more acceptable solutions, especially in places where those affected are Muslims.
Although Ramadan only lasted for a month, I felt like I had been fasting forever. The challenge facing me now is to settle back into the routine for the rest of the year. Unlike many Muslims, both in the United States and across the globe, I will be found walking the halls of Butler on Eid Ul-Fitr, doing my homework and preparing for midterms, but I will do so with a spring in my step. Even though I will feel as if I have lost a friend when this month ends, I hope that I will have stepped forward as a better human being. In the meantime, I would like to wish you a Happy Eid, or as they say in the Muslim world, Eid Mubarak!
The writer is a sophomore in the School of Engineering and Applied Science. He is a member of the Muslim Student Association.